Technophobia
by HippieHebe
Summary: When our favorite Greasers come across modern technology... well, lets just say they aren't with the times. ONESHOT.


Title: Technophobia

Summery: When our favorite Greasers come across modern technology... well, lets just say they aren't with the times. Oneshot.

Dedication: To Tens, many thanks for her help when I got a brain flop.

**Scenario One**

Darrell stared at the monitor, his blood reaching boiling point. The computer was taunting him, reminding him no matter how smart he was and no matter how many A's he had got at school, it was no use in the twenty-first century. He cursed and stared at the blue monitor moodily. It was clearly mocking him.

With an irritated growl he grabbed his coffee mug, took a violent swig and slammed it down on to the desk.

"Where in hell is the damn "any" key!"

**Scenario Two **

Satisfied, Dallas Winston lay back against the headboard, arms crossed behind his head. _I'm the best thing since sliced bread._ He thought smugly, watching Sylvia pull on one of his tee shirts.

"I'm gonna go have a shower," she said, walking into the bathroom.

"You got any cigarettes?" he called after her.

"Check in my purse." Leaning across the bed, Dallas reached for the ridiculous pink, feathery ball Sylvia called a purse. Pulling out a small carton labelled 'Tampax'. Must be a new brand, he considered. Damn her, didn't she have any 'Kools'. Cursing under his breath, he fumbled with the box, feeling a long stick inside. Only one left? _If she thinks I'm sharing, she can think again_, he thought barbarically. Pulling it out, he sat there stunned.

"This is no cigarette," Dallas mumbled puzzled. Flipping the carton over, he skimmed the back, below _Instructions_. "Holy shit…" This was a – a – he couldn't even say it! The word was on the tip of his tongue, but it wouldn't come out, or better said; he didn't want it to come out. But he had to face the truth… "She has a sex toy!"

He sobbed. This couldn't be happening to him. Sylvia needed a sex toy, even though she was dating him. Dallas Winston! The best thing since sliced bread! All this time she had been using this _thing_, when he wasn't around. Spending her time with it, instead of him. It meant – it meant…

"I'm not good enough! How can I not be good enough!" he wailed. "Nooooo!" He cried. "Why God? Why!" He screamed at the ceiling.

Wondering about the noise, Sylvia walked into the room, looked up at the ceiling then back down at Dallas, not really sure what to think. She paused, and then slowly spoke.

"Dally, babe? Are you alright?"

"You!" He growled, his nose red and running and tears streaming down his face. "How could you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talk – What am I talking about?" He roared shakily, dangling the white stick before her, by its string. "This – this, sex toy!" he spat.

"My tampon?"

"I don't want to hear your pet names for it!"

"Wait, Dally, you got it all wrong-"

"I don't want to hear it," he sobbed, throwing the tampon at her feet. "You don't think I'm good enough, for you?"

"Dal-"

"Well let me tell you something Sylvia Jennifer Parker," Dallas began bravely, his head held high. "You're not good enough for me!"

And with that Dallas stormed off, not realising he was still naked.

Sylvia stared.

**Scenario Three**

"It's a Frisbee!" Two-Bit grinned gleefully, holding up the shiny metallic CD.

"That's not a Frisbee," Steve replied looking up from his plate chocolate cake.

"Then what is it?" Two-Bit asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I don't know…" Steve trailed off. "It's just not a Frisbee."

"Then it's a Frisbee!"

"If that's a Frisbee what's this?" he said holding up a CD player. "That thing was inside it."

"A Frisbee holder," Two-Bit replied logically as Steve scowled. "Now, let's play! Catch!"

"Ow! My eye!" Steve wailed, as blood seeped down his face. "Two-Bit!"

"I did say 'catch'!"

"I told you, it wasn't a damn Frisbee!"

"Well it isn't anymore," Two-Bit replied sadly, looking down at the bloody chipped CD. "What a waste of perfectly good Frisbee."

"It's not a Frisbee!"

- - -


End file.
